Dirty
by The Sky Sage
Summary: Beautiful, the world around him was so beautiful. Was it because he was finally seeing it for what it was really worth? Or was it simply because he had become ugly, dirty?


**The Dmgirl:** It's rare that I pass anything from DeviantArt to here, but this has been receiving rather good feedback, so I'm trying my luck here. Let's hope you guys like it. Again, this is comparable to both "I'd Come For You" and "Never Gonna Be Alone", but with another song. This one is called "Gimmick Game" and all you fans of Arashi should probably recognize it. Yet, as always, I'm not putting the lyrics in.

_Disclaimer:_ Sonic and co. belong to Sega and "Gimmick Game" belongs to Arashi.

**Dirty**

He sighed. Breathed loudly as he looked outside, watching the branches sway in the wind. Everything looked so beautiful, too beautiful. Prettier than it had ever looked. And he couldn't explain it. He couldn't explain why, suddenly, everything seemed to take another type of beauty. Even his friends seemed strikingly gorgeous in the light of the morning, of a splendour that he could never touch. Not anymore, at least.

"It's the second time today," came the soft, yet gruff voice from the table not too far away, accompanied with the scraping sound of a mug moving along the table. "What's so interesting about the outside anyway?"

He turned around slowly, to the person sitting there. Those vibrant red streaks were far from dull, and killed the beauty of the outside. It reeled him in every time, just like a fish. It pulled him away from the window, making him sit right next to the black hedgehog. A gloved hand brought him even closer, scratching behind an ear and making him purr silently. The ghost of a smile appeared on tan lips as the purr escalated, sounding off in the kitchen.

"You want to go for a run?" the voice, irresistible, said quietly, cutting his musing. "Or do you want to just go outside?"

He knew for a fact that the black hedgehog didn't do it on purpose, that he called out unconsciously to him. Whether the other would admit it or not, he was possessive, territorial, and, most of all, afraid of losing his only possession, afraid of losing him. And yet, there were some days where he wished he could refuse the call, yell at the top his lungs that he didn't want to be tied down. But the other was subtle, slowly ensnared you into his arms without you noticing. Well, you did notice, but when you did, it was too late.

A kiss on the neck cut his thoughts with a gasp, and the words were hard to catch as a hot breath fanned his throat, "You're not usually this silent. Is something wrong?"

He knew he had to answer, voice out his thoughts. But it was hard to think when he was close. The scenery dulled before his eyes as he caught the sight of crimson. So beautiful, so filled with unsaid desire that always managed to light his.

"I was just thinking about how beautiful the world looks," he managed without stuttering. He was so used to being looked at like this that it barely had any effect. With desire, the look of a secret lover that wanted to hold you forever. He would consider himself a prisoner, if he didn't know that he held himself there out of his own will.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" was breathed along his neck, a pink tongue coming out to lick the fur and finding a bump underneath. He pushed away the black hedgehog, glaring.

"Don't start," he growled lightly, knowing that it was useless. If the other really desired him, he wouldn't be able to even stop him. Not that the other would touch him if he wasn't alright with it. And it was so true that it was annoying. There were days where he wished the dark one as far out of reach as possible. That way, the other wouldn't hurt him with lies, with beliefs that both didn't share.

"Aren't you on the defensive," was the hurt comment before a smile formed on the corner of tan lips and he found his head in the other's neck. "Tell me, why is the world so beautiful?"

His nose hit a bump on the other's neck. The same type of bump that he knew he had in almost the same area, that the black one had taken pleasure in licking to remind him of last night. A hazy night, just like every other, where he couldn't remember where he ended and the other started. He couldn't count the number of grunts, groans or screams of pure pleasure that had ripped their throats that night, nor every night preceding it, for that matter. He couldn't even remember who had smothered whom, yet he was pretty sure that they were equals on that ground. No uke or seme as a true male-male relationship would have it. They were equals, each giving and receiving. Another reason why he knew he would never be able to pull away. The black hedgehog didn't force pleasure on him, although he teased him more than anything. But he didn't just receive. He gave. More than his share. And he loved it. He loved seeing that tan mouth ajar and making wonderful, wordless sounds that only lit him up easier than his imagination.

"Well?"

He could tell the other was already in the mood. The suave tone was already husky, filled with undertones that he could easily pick on. And he knew. He knew that the dark one was patient. That game always had a winner, although the outcome completely depended on him. The dark one would never do anything against him, even if it meant waiting.

"I need to go out," was the simple reply, his eyes filling with an indifference he barely felt as he lifted himself from his chair, getting away from the black hedgehog. The other slowly took the position he had earlier assumed while he had being looking out the window, not saying a word. A mask of indifference that he wanted to crack, and made him come back time after time. Irresistible, filled with secrets that the black one had no clue on how to share them, save for their nights of passion.

* * *

><p>He was in the park faster than he could blink.<p>

Lying on the grass, he tried soaking in the sun, knowing it was an impossible. He felt colder, colder than he had ever felt in years. He knew that his friends would find him eventually and wonder where he has been. For his best friend, it was easy. He knew that, every evening, he left without a word, but both knew where he was headed. Back to that house, where only the black hedgehog and him knew about.

He envied his best friend. He would never know this. He would never feel the filth and cold that surrounded and caught him. He would stay innocent and probably marry a beautiful girl that deserved him. Was that why he found his friend so beautiful? Because he was innocent? Because the love that would find him was pure, not dirtied with the years? It would explain so many things, but why he envied his friends mostly. All of them would never be dirty, would never feel the filth gripped them and never let go. Probably only his red friend would find himself in the same situation eventually.

What was it with everything surrounding the black hedgehog, anyway? Did he truly attract the filth, or did he create it over everything he touched? Even the bat, that he knew that his friend was now unable to resist, was sultry, filled with the same poison that the dark one handled coldly. There was one major difference, though. Where the bat would, one day settle down and probably have children, the black hedgehog and him... they would never. It was a game of give and take. Where one would give, the other would receive and give in return. But that was it. There was no way they would share the vows he had once wanted to give to another. And he couldn't care. He didn't care for a minute that he would never know salvation. It was just too bad for his life.

"Sonic!"

He sat up, catching a piece of pink he wasn't sure he would see anymore. She didn't know, but, somehow, she did. She had stopped long ago bothering him, or the life-threatening glomps that she did every time she saw him. It wasn't the same ever since the black hedgehog had entered his life, and he knew it. Possession, territory, he was marked and would never be given back to the world no matter how hard he tried. No wonder the world was cold. It didn't want him anymore.

"Hey Amy," was the quiet greeting as she sat next to him, a broken smile on those pretty features. She knew without knowing. She had seen the looks of jealousy and anger the dark one had kept aiming at her every time she got too close. She had slowly given in without realizing and, in the end, her entire relation with him went to scrap. It wasn't the same. They were friends, nothing more.

"How are you doing?" She was happy, trying to cheer him up and almost managing. But there was something that would never leave him alone. A series of unpronounced that only the black one could answer, but neither of them had been able to put it down in words.

"I'm good. The world's nice," he answered with a smile, finally feeling free of his current burden, yet knowing exactly what his words conveyed. The world was nice, beautiful, even, and it was only because he was dirty and unable to clean himself. The dust, the crust of dirt was in so deeply, there was no way he could remove it. And they all knew that, even the one who feigned ignorance.

* * *

><p>"Stop," the words came easily, and he knew why. It wasn't the first time he pronounced them, certainly in such circumstances.<p>

He could feel the other's heat pressing against his, calling out to him and pleading him silently to stop postponing the inevitable. Yet, those eyes looked at him patiently, impassively, as if the current events left him cold. He knew better. He knew that this game was to see whichever handled the situation better, and he always lost. There was no exception to that rule, not even when it came to smothering the other. He would always cave in, give him and himself what they desired even after so many meetings of the sort. Release, sweet release that only came after hours and hours of pent up pleasure.

"What is it?" was the calm question as tan lips brushed against his. This was probably the only time and place where the other was impatient, even though it didn't show on his face. But he knew that he'd have to resist, if only to clear the haze of their relationship. He didn't want to feel dirty anymore. Didn't want to have to cover his life in lies.

Again, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, unable to say the intended words. The words that would relieve him, give meaning to this senseless relation that both of them kept burning. But the only thing he could do was move his mouth soundlessly, as the words just wouldn't leave. They were stuck in the back of his throat, unwilling to go any further.

"Again? You just don't give up, do you?" came the soft chuckle as he was embraced gently, lips lingering on his cheek. He knew too well what was happening, and he knew that he was going to crack, as he always did. There was no way he could resist.

"Forget words. They're useless."

Lips gently caught his in a soft, passionate moment before falling away, and he could see the scorching gaze. He was going to let it go, again. He wasn't going to be able to say it, to purify their relationship. He was going to dirty it, and himself, further. He was going to turn colder after this, again. His lips met tan and he closed his eyes. This world wasn't his any longer, and both knew that. This world, his world, belonged entirely to the black one below, and there was no way he was ever going to get it back.

He felt the cold arms surround him and felt his heart grow weak. He swallowed back the tears as he responded with fervor. The shame and guilt only grew as the heat grabbed them both. Another dance, another night in which he wouldn't sleep and cry silently as he held the one he loved so deeply without being able to pronounce the words. Cold, dirty, this world had destroyed the purity he had once known, once been. And, deep inside, he didn't care. And he would die caked in the blood of his sins.

**The Dmgirl: **This is when I realize that I'm not exactly like the others. I like controversial stories, don't I?


End file.
